Renegade
by geekgeekinsgeekles
Summary: Unable to stand silently by as her father forges sinister political ties, Rosh Omega has been banished from her home planet and sent into hiding as a final act of love from her family. Rosh must now find new meaning for her life and where her place in the galaxy now rests. She suspects clues may rest in a vision she had of a young girl and a grief stricken general.
1. Chapter 1

The silence in her quarters was the kind that felt like it was crushing your eardrums - what she would give for her music transmitter or a vid screen. _That would throw the whole aesthetic right the window, though,_ she mused to herself. What kind of migrant farm hand would have a vid screen? The freighter trembled from hyperspace turbulence and so did the nerves in her stomach.

Unable to sit any longer, Rosh Omega stood from her bunk and gave herself a hard look in the tiny square mirror above the sink in her quarters. She looked so different and could not stop staring. Her once long light brown hair had been cropped short enough that it's natural curl had made itself apparent and many a young girl had thought her a boy. Rosh hadn't had a real meal in a week and already she could see herself thinning. Her cheeks did not hold anymore childish chub and, looking down at her thin hands, there was no softness anymore. Most of the farm hands she had started out with in the orchard on Naboo had made fun of how perfect they were.

"You better rough those up before someone starts asking questions, girl," one of the hands had joked with a disturbing amount of knowing in their eyes. Rosh had taken their warning seriously and now her rough, scarred hands could pull fruit with the best of them.

 _Too bad there's no fruit on Jakku_.

Of all the places in the galaxy Major Tark could have sent her next, he had to choose the biggest pile of shit possible. "Your father doesn't want to have any idea where you could be," he had said as they went through the motions of a supply sale they had set up months prior in the tiny Naboo market. "He feels you will be in less danger this way."

"Isn't it dangerous that you'll know," Rosh had pretended to be comparing the two different types of apples in her hands as she spoke.

Tark took both of the apples to put into his sack. "What are you implying, my dear?" It was calm, but Rosh had sensed the venom just below the surface.

"Nothing. I just think it'd be wise to let me go my own way from here."

"Perhaps if _we_ felt we could trust _you_ ," Tark murmured, thrusting the money into her hands. "Safe travels," he called as he disappeared into the crowd without another word.

Rosh knew her father could not trust her, but she would never trust him again either. Not after what she had seen. She became aware of how hard she was gripping the sides of the sink and ran a hand through her curls. Why did she get on this awful freight to go to this dump of a planet?

 _Because it felt right._

Rosh felt a thickening of her resolve. At a younger age she had learned how valuable her instincts were. Her old fencing instructor had often began practice with long meditations - he had taught her how to breathe and feel a situation without allowing emotion to influence instructor had not lasted long - Rosh never even knew what happened to him. Even his name was a mystery to her as he had insisted she only call him Instructor, but she would have never survived the last year without his teachings.

The freighter bucked again. Rosh took a seat and cleared her mind to ease her nerves. She inhaled deeply and began to imagine a large field of wheat being moved gently by a breeze. Slowly she began to become unaware of the tiny cabin she inhabited. The wheat field slowly dissipated and a new scene began to emerge.

She was in a vast desert. She had never seen so much brown. A stone's throw ahead of her was a giant overturned, rusting machine with four legs. From the belly of the beast, what appeared to be a teenaged girl crawled out with a long staff. Rosh stepped forward to say, "Hello." It would have been rather creepy for the girl just to have a stranger staring at her silently, Rosh felt. But, when she opened her mouth nothing came out and suddenly her legs seemed glued to the ground.

The girl was stretching her arms with the staff across her shoulders. Rosh couldn't make out much, but she even from a distance she could tell the girl was too attractive for the scene surrounding them. At the same time, the girl's muscular build made Rosh sure she could lose a few teeth for ever saying that. For a moment the girl seemed to look right at Rosh as if she could see her standing there. The moment went as quickly as it came and the girl began walking towards a speeder.

Rosh tried moving again as the girl sped off, but instead the ground began to swallow her. Surprised at how unbothered she was, Rosh allowed herself to fall down into what appeared to be conference room. It was dusk on a different planet and shadows cast by surrounding buildings bled into the bland room. Rosh almost cried out in surprise when she became aware of a figure in the corner who seemed very much aware of her.

"What's going on," Rosh's voice was back.

The figure stepped from the shadows and Rosh felt her tension be released. It was an older woman with kind brown eyes. She looked upon Rosh like a good-natured aunt looking at her favorite niece. The older woman took a seat next to the younger and the word, "general," flashed in Rosh's mind.

"You're a general?"

The woman nodded grimly. The sadness around her was palpable. Reaching out and placing her hand on Rosh's, the general suddenly became strong and intense with her gaze.

"Find me," was all she said before Rosh felt herself being jolted back into her cabin.

"Were you doing magic," Rosh's Nautolan cabin mate, Yet, had returned. The look he on his face was a mixture awe and that look you get when you realize someone you have to share close quarters with it completely insane. Rosh could feel herself grow hot with both embarrassment and panic. She had only meant to have a moment of silence...not a... not whatever that had been.

Yet was still staring; the fear was still there, but the awe seemed to be becoming replaced with anger. All the right ingredients for trouble. Taking one last deep breath, Rosh plastered on a smile and gingerly rose from her bunk.

"Nah, I was just meditating," Rosh said in a high pitched attempt at cheerful as she exited the cabin before anymore questions could be raised by Yet. She had enough of them to deal with on her own. She felt dizzy and like every nerve in her body was throbbing with electricity. It wasn't until she was a few corridors over that she realized she hadn't a clue where she was going.


	2. Chapter 2

The heat was enough to give one a choking sensation and the sun caused Rosh's eyes to ache as she exited the ship. Jakku was about ten times more miserable than even she had prepared herself for. Inside her jacket, her sweat glands exploded - hopefully refreshers were plentiful here, but Rosh wasn't going to hold out hope. The sparse tent settlement was supposed to be the hopping place to be on Jakku, but there couldn't have been more than a hundred beings shuffling from tent to tent.

"So much brown…," Rosh commented to the Duros woman getting off the freight with her. She was tall and solemn looking even for a Duros. When Rosh looked at her she felt a pull - they needed to be acquainted.

"It's a desert," the woman said with a tired monotone.

"Ah, yes - I see now!" The Duros grunted at the attempt at humor before slumping away from Rosh and the departing freighter. Rosh watched the ship leave with a lump of remorse swelling in her stomach. _Let's hope my instincts aren't a load of shit_ , she thought as she ran to catch up with the departing Duros woman.

"So," she began as she fell in stride next to her prospective companion, "where does a hand get work around here?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Goodwill?"

"You won't find any of that here," the Duros woman adjusted her bags and began to walk at a faster pace, but Rosh wasn't going to let her get away.

"Well, what about a place to rest your head? Does a girl just grab a tent or…?"

The Duros woman stopped and turned to fully face Rosh with intense, sharp eyes. "Your coming here without being prepared is not my problem, girl. My advice is that you keep to yourself, keep your head down, and pray that the next freighter doesn't take long to get here."

Rosh cracked a grin that seemed to catch the woman off guard. "We're gonna be good friends. You seem like a good woman. We should get a meal together sometime," the woman scoffed, offended. "Not like that! You know just to celebrate our new friendship."

The woman began to gaze at Rosh with exasperation and then amusement. "That attitude is either gonna make you rich or get you killed, young one."

"Well, maybe with your help it can be the latter?"

The Duros woman regarded her, the wheels obviously turning in her mind. Rosh just kept her look of innocent confidence, but never broke their line of direct eye contact.

"Fine," the woman grunted. "Meet me here tomorrow at dawn, ready to work. You had better be here first or you're getting left. I will not tolerate any slack behavior, understand?"

"Of course," Rosh responded.

"Outside of business we do needn't have anything to do with each other."

"Okay. Deal," Rosh stuck out her hand. The woman gave it a firm, quick shake and continued to the tent city ahead of them. Rosh fell in line behind her.

"Stop following me," the woman snarled.

"This is the only direction we can go!"

"Then just stand there until I'm gone."

Rosh chuckled and came to a halt, letting the woman continue. "Oh, what's your name," Rosh called.

"None of your damn business," the woman shouted back without turning.

How could a planet so hot be so cold when the sun went down? Rosh had nearly every article of clothing she had brought with her on and still she shivered in the tiny canvass tent. The rest of the day had been uneventful - she had managed to trade the her inherited pocket watch for a nice little life-on-Jakku starter kit. Admittedly, the speeder bike could have waited, but it had been too cool for Rosh to let pass. She had also procured a decent amount of portions that tasted like paste, the tent, a sizeable knife and some equipment to protect her from the sand storms.

 _A blanket would have been nice. Should have gone for a blanket._

In addition to the cold, the silence made it impossible for her to sleep. Back on Naboo she had been able to listen to the laughter of the other hands well into the night. After that a chorus of wildlife would lull her to sleep. Here though, it was worse than the freighter. At least on the ship they were in the vacuum of space. Shouldn't there be some kind of noise on a planet?

Rosh tried to just think about taking that bike out to meet the Duros woman soon. What would the look on her face even be when Rosh rode up on her sleek speeder? It was going to make work so much easier...probably.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by what sounded like a speeder bike being switched on. Rosh shot up inside the tent.

"Hey," she shouted, struggling in her panic to get the tent door unzipped. "Hey, that's my bike!"

Finally she was able to stumble out into the open. For a moment the scene seem to go in slow motion. The three traders Rosh had gotten her supplies from were in a semicircle around her tent, basking in the moonlight and not looking very friendly. One of them, the leader, was sitting on the speeder, looking smug with Rosh's watch. He was broad and muscular with tattoos all over his hairless body. His yellow eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight. The others were smaller, but similarly tattooed and yellow eyed. Their clothes seemed to be scraps of other clothes, rags.

"Word of advice, girl," the leader said, resetting the watch. "Don't be so flashy in the future." He snapped the watch shut. That's when the others pounced. The last thing Rosh remembered was a heavy fist coming right for her eye.


	3. Chapter 3

Her entire body ached. It ached and when she moved, it stung fiercely as well. Around her the bright Jakku sun bore down with fierce intensity. Rosh sat up, amazed that she could...that the thieves had left her alive. Licking her lips, Rosh tasted dried blood that seemed to have poured from her nose.

She gingerly put a finger to what had once be a long, straight nose she had been quite fond of. She winced at the pain and how crooked it felt. Not surprisingly her left eye was barely able to open. Her right eye, though, was fully able to observe her lack of clothes. The thieves had only left her in her short underclothes and boots. Every inch of exposed skin was bright pink.

Standing, Rosh felt like a complete idiot. At the time it seemed natural to go ahead to get everything she would need for desert life right off the bat. Now despite only having the use of one eye she could see the utter stupidity of throwing around her wealth with such abandon.

It was well past dawn; there was no way the Duros woman was anywhere around the station. How could she even show up in just her underwear? Would that just paint a giant target on her still pale back? Rosh had noticed the back half of her body had been protected from being unconscious on her back.

"Don't panic, Rosh," she said to herself as she began to pace. "Don't panic. It'll be okay. Think." The wind was picking up, hurling sand at her burnt skin, and causing it to sting like a thousand little papercuts. She couldn't stay exposed like this without food or water. She'd be dead within the day. There was no choice. She had to head back to the station and hope for the best.

Several hours later, Rosh was getting light headed from exposure and dehydration. The vast desert seemed endless in all directions - she had long ago come to terms with the fact that she was lost. The sand had worn at her skin and she was bleeding in various areas of her arms and legs. Her face was in agony and she could feel tears stream from her swollen eye, irritated from the barrage of sand.

Unable to continue, Rosh fell to her knees and cried out in frustration. She was only twenty. How could she be dying at twenty in a shitty desert wasteland? The words of Instructor ran through her head...she was supposed to have what she needed. She was supposed to find that general and _be_ someone. Scenes she had always imagined her life would hold began to appear in front of her.

Joining the New Republic Army...making her parents proud...fighting and making a name for herself. Her father pinning medals to her uniform in front of the cheering Senate floor.

Going with her friends from back home on trips around the galaxy. She could see her oldest friend Picla, with her crooked grin, waving off in the distance. What Rosh wouldn't give to be able to go to the seedy cantina, The Rusted Bolt, on the outskirts of town with her again to play sabacc with the space travelers. They had seemed so daring and street smart back then with their comfy beds in their safe homes just a short transport away.

It hit her with a stunning amount of weight that all of those images had become obsolete to her long before she found herself dying in the desolate desert of this forsaken planet. Folding down so that her forehead rested on her knees, Rosh began to sob. _Please,_ she begged to any higher powers that may have been listening, _please, don't let this be it._

On her shoulder there was a pressure, like someone had placed their hand on her, but it didn't cause the burns to flare. The touch felt soothing. Rosh's head jerked up to see the goofy grin of Picla as Rosh last remembered her - in their school's maroon uniform, sandy blonde hair tousled like she had just risen from bed, those freckles making her face look perpetually dirty.

"Hey, Ro," she said as if this was any other day.

"Picla…"

Picla sat cross-legged next to her and started playing with the sand. "This plan sure went to shit, eh?"

"Don't be a smart ass right now, Pic. I'm dying."

Picla let out a cackle. "Uh-huh - still dramatic. Maybe if you hadn't been so dramatic back home things could be different. We could be drinking ourselves blind at the Rusted Bolt. You kind of made a mess of things, though."

Rosh felt hot anger erupt from her heart. "You'd have done the same if you saw what I saw."

"What are you talking about?"

"He had them killed! He had them all killed because of those bastards."

Picla's smile never faltered. She just sat there looking as innocent and unassuming as ever. "Look at me. Let me see your eyes."

"He had them killed! He had them murdered," Rosh felt herself being held, but she continued to thrash and yell. No longer was the touch she felt soothing, but agonizingly tight on her scorched skin. Rosh cried out in pain.

"Calm down," it was a new voice. Still feminine, but with a Jakku accent. "Just calm down, you're going to be okay."

Rosh was too delirious to listen. She kept screaming and sobbing, but whoever had a hold of her never let go or stopped asking patiently for her to calm down. At one point Rosh jerked her head back and hit something hard enough to cause the already blurry world to go black and silent.

It was the smell that hit her first. It was a mixture of musty wet clothes and one of the paste portions grilling. _The afterlife smells awful._

Rosh found that her left eye had been bandaged and was sore when her sight returned. She was in a canvass tent again on a cot under some piled blankets. It was night time and there was a small fire in the center of the tent making the room feel cozy and warm. She felt a little groggy, but no longer in the delirious stupor of before.

"You're awake," the familiar sharp tone was a welcomed relief to Rosh. In the doorway was the Dorus woman looking completely nonplussed at Rosh attempting to sit up.

"I'm lucky," Rosh said on the verge of tears. She felt a bit dizzy, but still stronger than before and somehow in the same vicinity of the closest thing to a friend she had on the planet.

"You are an idiot that should be dead," the woman sounded angry as she went to scooping portions onto a plate. "I cannot believe I almost worked with you. The first freight that comes through has to have you on it." The woman set the plate roughly down on Rosh's lap and began tidying up the tent.

"I made a mistake," Rosh stated firmly. "I've learned. I can't leave."

The women fiercely turned on Rosh, drawing herself up to full height. "You've _learned_? What have you _learned_ exactly? Two more hours and you'd be dead, girl. Just another hunk of trash for the desert to swallow. It has been two days since I got you in that bed. Two days. You don't. Make. Mistakes on Jakku. You die."

"Fine. I'm a moron, but do you have the money to get me out of here? Cause I lost everything to those thieves."

The woman stood with her jaw set firmly, staring down Rosh, lost in thought. "You can stay here," she said finally. Rosh felt her face twitch from shock. "You can stay here and work with me until you have enough to leave. I'm tired of watching young people die, but you must do everything I say, understand?" Her finger was in Rosh's face and the look she wore was one of suffocating intensity.

"I do," Rosh was as earnest as she could be, but the woman didn't soften.

"You better." She rose and continued to put away items from the day.

As Rosh began eating she noticed that she was covered in a white paste that must have been meant to ease the burning because she wasn't in nearly the pain she should would have thought. Her body was one big, dull ache. Touching her nose, it was still crooked, but didn't hurt. She suddenly remembered being held by a stranger.

"Who saved me," Rosh asked - the woman who didn't look up.

"A girl from the desert."

"And she brought me to you?"

"She brought you to town and was ready to trade her whole day's worth of parts to get you help, but I came along in time to stop that from happening."

"Oh," Rosh didn't know exactly how to react. It was a level of gratitude towards a couple of strangers that she could not articulate. "Thank you," was all she could get out.

"Eat," responded the woman.

"Do you think I could find that girl in town? To thank her, too," Rosh asked.

"Probably, although you busted her lip something fierce. Blood everywhere," the woman almost smiled. "You may want to bring her something a little extra, just saying."

Rosh smirked and took another bite of the grainy portion. It was awful and amazing at the same time - just to be able to eat felt like a miracle. Feeling the pain around her eye felt amazing, as did the itchy blankets, and the guarded affection from the woman - anything that made her feel alive felt like a precious gift in that moment.

"Amira," the woman said after several moments of silence.

"Amira?" Rosh felt as if she was having one of her old conversations with Instructor.

"That's my name," the woman was standing with her arms folded, looking into the fire.

"Amira," Rosh repeated, grinning at her. Rosh paused a moment, contemplating what to say next. "I'm...I'm Ro." On Naboo she had gone by a completely different name to protect her identity, but for better or worse she couldn't bring herself to completely lie to Amira.

"Ro," Amira tried out the name. "Get yourself together before you get someone killed."


End file.
